Mind Games
by Jander Panell
Summary: Edward Nigma has a propensity for getting into...unusual...relationships. A collection of Riddler-centric drabbles, centering around different, mostly slash, pairings. Rated for eventual naughty content.
1. Promises

**Mind Games**

1. Promises

WTF, WTF.

Let's just say this came out because a) I was utterly stuck on writing a scholarship essay, b) I was utterly stuck on my semi-serious superhero story which I'll eventually post on fictionpress if I can ever get past finishing this goddamned chapter (not likely!), c) I was stuck on the next chapter of _Through a Mirror, Darkly_, and d) I refuse to work on revising my novel until after the state Academic Decathlon competition.

So basically, I wanted to write but couldn't work on any of my halfway serious projects (there's always finishing _Most Perfect Servant, _but at this point in time that's highly unlikely). So I crapped out this in my frustration.

I like this. It's basically all dialogue with very little plot. I've gotten tired of writing plot. So this is something fun and easy and a little weird, plus there's some slashy action going on, though not much. Douchey Batman and whiny Edward are my favorite ways of writing those characters. Actually, this is the first time I've ever written those two in a halfway serious way. So maybe they're OOC. I don't know. I haven't read enough comics 'cause I'm pretty new to the comics fandom (sadly for a long time I was an animu manga weaboo, now I only read _Kuroshitsuji. _Make of that as you will), so I don't know if this portrayal is accurate since I'm unaware of all the complex canon crap going on because I can't afford comics and there isn't any Onemanga or Mangafox for comics. So I swallow sadness, like a boss.

This is rambling and nonsensical and I get the feeling it is way too late at night. So I will shut up now and let you read this. I do intend on making this a series of Edward centric stories involving different pairings. This one is Batman/Edward with some hints of Jonathan/Edward.

* * *

Batman spun around and punched Edward Nigma directly in the face.

Needless to say Edward had not been expecting such cruel treatment from The Dark Knight. Ha, now that was a lie. Every time he saw Batman, well, he expected cruel treatment of _some _sort. Batman just didn't know the meaning of the word gentle. Still--getting punched like that, when he'd done nothing wrong? Even he had to rail against the injustice of such an act.

"That _hurt, _Batman!" he cried, wiping the blood away from his mouth.

"That's the point, Eddie," Batman said, his voice heavy with irony.

"Why would you do something like that?" Edward sputtered. "We were getting along just fine, too!"

"Just fine? You were _irritating _me, Eddie. I haven't got time for your riddles. I need to know what Scarecrow's doing and I need to know it now."

"And you think _I _know?" Edward said glumly. "How should I know a thing about what that big sack of straw is doing? I'm legit now. I haven't associated with him for months."

"Eddie, I have reasonable suspicion to believe that you _would _be perfectly aware of Scarecrow's activities." Batman's voice was an irritated growl. That sort of growl never portended good things to Edward.

"Well, your reasonable suspicion is wrong," Edward said, but he was quaking a little inside. "Riddle me this, Batman--"

Batman hit him again. Edward stumbled like a drunken man and almost fell off the edge of the roof that he and Batman were standing on--Batman so _very _generously snatched him by the wrist and hauled him up to his feet. Edward glared up at Batman's masked face, at the narrow slits of white that were all he could see of his former nemesis's eyes, and had to fight down the suicidal urge to spit at that face.

Dear lord. His face was throbbing insanely and his head was spinning. Batman's punches were like being slammed by a freight train. No matter how many times it happened to him, he could never get used to it.

"No _riddles, _Eddie," Batman hissed, giving Edward a shake.

"But Batman," Edward began in a whine. "I'm serious. I don't _know. _Whatever the hell Scarecrow's planning, I've got no part in it. I swear."

"Then why did he call your office earlier tonight?" Batman delivered Edward another shake; Edward thought he could feel his brain rattling around in his skull. Colorful lights were beginning to dance in his vision.

"Well--er--it wasn't to include me in his plans. He was threatening me, Batman, you've got to believe--wait a minute. How do you _know _he called me?"

A grim and ironic smile crossed Batman's face, making him look a hundred times scarier. "I know these things, Eddie."

"That's not an answer!" Edward yelled. "Have you been bugging my office? Have you been wiretapping my phone? That's--that's _illegal, _Batman! It's unconstitutional!"

"How ironic. The former criminal is lecturing me about illegal activities."

"Yeah, keyword, _former! _Batman, this is really the lowest of the low."

"Eddie, just tell me what Scarecrow said to you." Batman sounded exasperated.

"Nothing! Well, er..." Since Batman was glaring at him like he wanted nothing more than to kick his teeth in, he quickly amended his words. "He was basically threatening me. Saying that if I didn't join him, he was going to come to my office personally and flood it with fear gas. So that's why I came looking for you in the first place."

"Edward, I am not your guardian angel," Batman said.

"Well, I guess I'll have to settle for guardian bat, then," Edward couldn't resist quipping.

Batman's mouth twitched, though whether into a smile or frown Edward couldn't tell. Good lord that Batman. What made him most frightening was how difficult it was to read his face. He wasn't like Edward, who couldn't hide his emotions to save his life.

"I am not your guardian of any kind. All I need from you is the information I need to stop Scarecrow."

"What, we can't team up, Bats?"

"The day I team up with you, Edward..." Batman growled. He was still holding on to Edward's wrist, and took advantage of that to deliver Edward's wrist a firm, bruising, nearly bone-crushing squeeze. Edward yowled aloud.

"Oww, dammit! Stop it! Why the hell are you beating _me _up? You're the one who's in the wrong here, Mr. Illegal Wiretap--"

"Don't get so wrapped up in it, Edward." Batman seized his shoulder and shook him in exasperation; Edward whimpered. His head was starting to spin. This much shaking couldn't be healthy for a man.

"I _will _get wrapped up in it, Batman! Because you're the one who's invading my privacy! What, do you have cameras, too? Do you watch me when I'm in the bathroom? When I _shower?"_

"No," was the terse reply.

"You're a creepy stalker," Edward whined. Not his most clever turn of phrase, that much was true--but hey, it was _true. _No one but a stalker of the creepiest magnitude would actually think of tapping a rival's phone. "You stalker, I should get a restraining order against you--"

"_Eddie." _Batman sounded utterly exasperated. "It's not stalking. I'm merely...keeping tabs on you. In case you relapse."

"You really don't trust me that much?" Edward shouted, leaning up close in the hopes that his shouting would hurt Batman's ears. Not likely, though.

"I've never trusted you, Eddie."

"You're a liar, Batman! A lying stalker!"

"For the last time, Eddie, I am _not _stalking you. And I need to know Scarecrow's plans, now! I've had enough of this. Quit playing around with me. People's lives are at stake!" Batman was now squeezing both of Edward's shoulders, and had bent down slightly so that they were eye-to-eye.

Edward, seized by a fit of immaturity, mumbled, "Question, Batman: What must be returned before it can be given? That's right, a _favor."_

"A favor." Batman's eyebrow may or may not have twitched. It was hard to tell through that cowl. "Enough, Eddie. I don't have _time _for your silly games."

"It's a simple favor, Batman," Edward said. "All you have to do is stop tapping my phone and take out any hidden bugs or cameras you've got in my office."

"Edward, I'm running out of time here. I am not going to waste my time knocking in the walls of your office--"

"A _ha!" _Edward cried, beeping Batman on the nose--his triumph held his sense of self-preservation in check. "So you really _did _bug my office! That's as good a confession as any!"

Batman growled. Edward did not want to admit that the sound made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up--it wasn't a human sound, it was an animal sound. A creature of the night sound.

"Come on, Bats. It can't be that hard..." he began, wheedlingly.

"Question, Eddie: What must be returned before it can be given?"

"Batman..." Edward whined.

"Or perhaps you'd prefer, what came first--the chicken or the egg?"

"And your point is..."

"We could stand around all night arguing like children over which favor to fulfill first, _or, _you could do the sensible thing and help me track down Scarecrow. What will it be, Eddie?"

"Batman, I don't...like this," Edward said, lowering his voice and gazing at the ground. "I've pretty much accepted that you--well, the way you treat me isn't _good _by any extents, and I've no illusions it will ever be. But at least you don't have to throw in something like...at least you don't have to invade my privacy like that. All I'm asking is that you _trust _me, at least once. You can hate me and beat me up and do whatever the hell you want with me during the nights. But at least try to trust me a little bit. When I say something, why don't you ever believe it?"

"Because, Edward, you never say the truth," Batman said, his voice stern. "With you, it's always a mystery. Broken into a jigsaw puzzle. Wrapped in a conundrum. Hidden in a Chinese box."

Edward wanted very badly to point out the utter creepiness of completely memorizing your not-so-enemy-not-so-lover's past words, but felt that in this situation it would not be prudent. He'd still like to be standing tomorrow morning, after all.

"That was...the way I was before. I've gone straight now."

"But you still don't give straight answers. All I need is to know what Scarecrow is up to. Can you at least do that much? For me?"

Edward didn't miss how Batman's voice softened with the last two words, how his grip on Edward's shoulders loosened, became more gentle. It was all a ploy, of course, premeditated to get Edward on his side. And yet...he fell for it anyhow.

Because Batman was so rarely gentle. Because Batman almost never took that tone with him. It was all false, of course, but...he liked it anyway.

And perhaps he could entertain the notion that Edward wasn't the only one who had to coat the truth with layer after layer of mystery and falsehood before he could utter it aloud. It was a silly idea but one he clung on to ferociously--because it justified why he kept seeking Batman out, when honestly, the Dark Knight never had anything to offer him.

"Batman," he said. "All right, then...but after we're finished tonight, you had better remove every last bug from my office! Or I, I'll..."

Naturally, Edward had no serious threats to hold over Batman. Sometimes he liked to envision their relationship--or whatever it was they had--as a seesaw. On one side sat the heavy hunk of muscle Batman, tilting the seesaw completely into the air, while poor anemic little Edward Nigma clung desperately to the edge of the side pointed straight at the sky. How sad and fitting.

"Of course, Eddie," Batman said, his tone deeply ironic. Edward furrowed his brow and glared at Batman.

"Somehow, I'd appreciate it if you sounded more sincere."

"I _am _sincere."

"You're a riot, Batman. You know, one day you really ought to go into stand-up comedy," Edward said, his mouth moving without him thinking. He cringed a little, preparing for another blow.

All Batman did, though, was pull down the brim of his hat, so that it completely covered his eyes. Edward squawked in surprise and indignation and quickly struggled to readjust his hat. More than anything, he resented being treated as a child--a fact Batman probably knew well.

"I am being sincere," Batman said again, and this time he sounded like he actually meant it. "As soon as I'm finished with Scarecrow. Now, Edward, tell me what you know."

"Promise, Batman."

"Eddie..."

"One little promise won't kill you! You say that I never give you a reason for you to trust me, but maybe _you're _the one who won't give _yourself _a chance to trust me! Consider this...a first step. All right?"

He did a silly thing then and reached out and patted Batman on the side of his face. Batman's skin was surprisingly warm and he found himself longing to hold the touch a little longer--but that was suicide if anything. Batman, anyway, seized him by the wrist and forced his hand back down again.

"Very well, Eddie," Batman said gruffly. "I promise that I'll remove the bugs from your office and stop tapping your phone. But in return, you must promise to help me."

"See, Bats? A little trust goes a long way," Edward said. "It's a promise."

Batman seized him by the tie and pulled him into a hard, brutal, and entirely one-sided kiss. Edward squirmed and protested at first, but he could never fight Batman for long. So he hung limply in Batman's grip, letting the Dark Knight ravage his mouth, and even began to tentatively return the kiss. This close to Batman, it was overwhelming--he was so hot, so strong, and so _damnably _skilled with that tongue.

But of course all could things had to come to an end, and Batman pulled away, though he paused to lightly suck at Edward's lips before drawing away from him completely. "My, my, aren't we eager tonight," Edward said, wiping at his mouth. "What was that for?"

"A promise," Batman growled, "is nothing if it's not sealed."

Edward laughed out loud. "Sealed with a kiss, hmm?"

Batman squeezed his shoulder again, just enough to be painful, but now Edward could have sworn that he was smiling. "Now, Eddie. Tell me--what is Scarecrow up to?"

* * *

I get the feeling that this version of Batman owes more to All Star Batman than the canon Batman. What a bastard. Hell, he probably owes more to _Edward Cullen _than any other character! I bet that if Cullen had access to Batman's gadgets he'd be bugging and wiretapping Bella. Cuz Big Brother is so damnably _romantic! _Squeeeee Robert Pattinson is hot not.

Maybe I'll do a follow-up in which Batman and Edward confront Scarecrow in a very sexy way. Probably not, becase that would involve too much action and not enough talking. I would rather write talking than action right now. Then again, it is very late, so my mind is not working properly.

The M rating will be put into full use for later chapters, I hope. I haven't been in a very smutty mood as of late, but I one way or the other I am going to throw some PWP's into this. Because Edward deserves them.

Review if you want to.


	2. Power Play

**Mind Games**

2. Power Play

All I can say is that this is the result of looping Ludo's amazing song "Love Me Dead" over and over again while writing.

I'm a bit nervous about this piece because I really do like the Scarecrow/Riddler pairing, but this is my first foray into writing it...so I'm not sure that I've gotten the characterizations down pat. In particular...dear lord, I get the feeling that this is the Jim Carrey Riddler I'm writing. I mean, he's so...hyperactive here. One of these days, I'll bring myself to write the suave intellectual Eddie who attracted me in the first place. But not today.

I will freely confess that I am not clever enough (or rather, too lazy) to come up with my own riddles, so all of Eddie's riddles here were taken from other sources.

There is no sex in this story, but it does end on kind of a fade-to-black.

* * *

Professor Jonathan Crane woke up to see that his hands were tied behind his back with a handkerchief.

He knew, instantly, who was responsible. "Nigma..." he growled.

"Oh, good morning, Jonathan!" chirped a voice that was much too bright and happy for the dingy little apartment the two supervillains were currently camped out in ("camped out" meaning that they of course weren't paying for it). Edward Nigma came skipping in through the door, cup of coffee in one hand, cane in the other.

He was wearing that _ridiculous _spandex outfit. Jonathan was not a credible fashion expert by any means, but even he knew that skintight neon green splashed with purple question marks did _not _go with a bowler hat. Did not "go" at all, in fact. He remembered last night that he had knocked Edward out with his strongest sedative when Edward had made thinly veiled threats implying that he would, come hell or high water, wear the spandex tomorrow.

It appeared Edward had followed through on those threats anyhow.

"Kindly untie me, Nigma," Jonathan said.

"You can figure it out yourself, can't you? After all, you _are _a genius." Edward took an enormous gulp from his coffee cup. He was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet and seemed rather more hyperactive than usual today. Jonathan wondered how many cups of coffee he'd downed already, and decided he didn't want to know.

"This isn't funny."

"Of course it isn't! Who do you think I am, the Joker?" Edward laughed maniacally and did a spin that completely obliterated any pretensions towards heterosexuality that he might have previously put on. "Riddle me this, Jonathan--"

"I'll indulge your riddles once you untie me."

"Nah-ah-_ah!" _Edward wagged a finger in Jonathan's face. "I don't think so, Jonathan! You're going to play by _my _rules today."

Jonathan sighed and made an abortive effort at twisting out of his binds. No such luck. It appeared Edward was quite an expert at tying knots, though perhaps it was because he'd learned from an expert.

"Do you know what I'm going to do to you once I get free?" he snarled, lowering his voice into his most dangerous hiss.

"Yes, I do, and I don't care!" Edward danced a little jig on the spot. Jonathan decided that once this was over, he was going to throw out anything that could potential caffeinate Edward.

"How much caffeine is in your system right now?" Jonathan said, shooting evil eyes at Edward's coffee cup (which was decorated with, of course, green question marks). "It can't possibly be good for you..."

"Oh, thanks for the diagnosis, Doc! But you're not the one asking the questions. _I _am!"

"Edward, why are you doing this?" Jonathan growled.

"Hmm, I don't know," Edward said, tilting his head to the side to examine the bound doctor. Jonathan did not want to admit that he found the gesture somewhat appealing; it made Edward look like a big bird. A big, ugly, green and purple bird in a bowler. "Maybe because it's _fun? _And it's only fair. I mean, you're usually the one who ties me up and torments me. Who says I can't do the same to you?"

"Edward, your riddles are not tormenting in the slightest," Jonathan said.

"Now, that's a challenge if I've ever heard one!" Edward declared, giving his cane a spin. "We'll see how tormented you are when your head's spinning from confusion!"

"You're not going to confuse me, Edward. You're going to untie me this instant."

Edward actually blew a raspberry at him. Imagine that. It seemed the caffeine was making him more immature, too. "What's that? Did you say something? I'm sorry, all I heard was an great big ugly bird squawking."

_The only big ugly bird here is you, _Jonathan thought in disgust. _A big, ugly, prancing bird. _For Edward had started prancing back and forth across the narrow apartment, pausing ever-so-often to give his cane a toss and a twirl.

"Is this your idea of revenge?" Jonathan demanded.

"Bzzt, wrong, _who _is asking the questions again?" Edward said.

"It's a terrible revenge."

"Shut up! Now, riddle me this, Jonathan--what word starts with an 'e,' ends with an 'e,' and usually contains one letter?"

Jonathan wondered if this was a trick riddle. Was he supposed to just say "e?" Never matter--he would _never _play by Edward's silly games.

"You're being a fool, Nigma. You may be having fun now, but if you have any sense of self-preservation at all, you'll untie me. Unless you want to spend all day rolling around the floor begging your father to stop beating you."

Edward jerked as if he'd been slapped; Jonathan smiled a little inside, glad he was finally having an effect on the Riddler.

"You're wrong! The answer is an envelope!" Edward yelled, pointing his cane like a sword at Jonathan. Jonathan resolved that if Edward tried to stab him with it, he would bite on its end and yank it out of Edward's grip.

"Now, here's another chance. Question: What is heavy forwards, but backwards is not?"

"This is idiotic." Jonathan started to wriggle slightly, hoping to loosen his bonds enough for him to slip free.

"_Wrong _again!" Edward hit him over the head with the cane. Much to his shame, Jonathan had to admit he hadn't been expect that, and he slumped to the side, stars dancing in his vision. His hatred for Edward Nigma only grew.

"It's a ton!" Edward crooned, seemingly addressing the ceiling. "The answer is the word 'ton!' Come on, Jonathan. These are _easy _riddles. Even a grade-schooler could figure them out. Don't tell me _you _can't!"

Jonathan twisted his fingers backwards so they were digging into the cloth of the handkerchief. It was uncomfortable and he couldn't have done it if his fingers weren't as long and spindly as they were. Often in his childhood he resented being a skinny scarecrow, but now he had every reason to be utterly grateful for his build. Slowly, torturously, he began yanking down on the handkerchief.

"One more chance, Jonathan, and you'd better answer," Edward said, doing another silly spin. "The more you have of it, the less you see. What is it?"

"You're making me angry, Edward. You know what I'm like when I'm angry. Do you really want to make me angrier than I am? You will cry, and I won't comfort you."

"As if!" Edward shouted, poking him in the nose with his cane; Jonathan growled. "And you know what, _dear _Jonathan? You're making _me _angry right now! You'd better answer, mister, or you're going to _get _it."

"Edward..." Jonathan said. He hooked his index finger into the cloth and dragged it down; he was rewarded when he felt the handkerchief begin to loosen slightly. Now, this was the way to do it. He had no hope of undoing Edward's complex knot, but if he loosened the handkerchief enough, he didn't need to. It would just slide off on its own.

"Sorry, Jonathan, but the more you have of me, the more you _do _see," Edward said, spreading his arms and striking a pose that made him look like a big green starfish. "The answer is darkness."

"Ahh, darkness," Jonathan said with a smirk. "You would know more about that anyone, wouldn't you? The darkness inside your house at night, because your father could never afford to pay the electric bill. Waiting in fearful anticipation for where his next blow would come from..."

"Shut up!" Edward cracked him over the head with his cane; Jonathan had to squirm plenty to avoid falling on his side. "I told you to shut up! And you'd better, unless you're going to be answering my riddles! Got it?"

"My, my, Edward. Have I touched a nerve?" Jonathan said mockingly. He was only talking to buy time, of course. As he worked the handkerchief, tugging it ever downwards using the tips of his fingers, it grew looser and looser; soon, he'd be able to slip his hands completely free of it. But he had to keep Edward from noticing what he was doing.

"I said, _shut up!" _Edward whacked him in the face with the cane; Jonathan, to his shame, cried out as stars filled his vision and something warm and wet streaked down his chin. He'd never had a high threshold for pain, but neither did Edward. They were really perfect for each other.

"Seems I have," Jonathan said, even though speaking made his nose throb. He was now lying on his side, but it didn't matter--because he'd almost completely wriggled out of the handkerchief. He still kept his hands behind his back, just to make Edward think he was still bound. Nothing was better than the element of surprise.

Edward danced another caffeinated jig, this time one of frustration. "That's enough! If you can't keep your mouth shut, I'm going to shut it for you!"

"But then I won't be able to answer your riddles," Jonathan said ironically.

"Well, that'll just be--_auuuuugh!"_

Edward screamed like a woman, Jonathan thought with some amusement. He'd lurched to his feet and before Edward could figure out what was going on, gave the Riddler a good left hook diretly in the face. Edward fell, still screaming, but recovered quickly enough, raising his cane and whacking indiscriminately with it in the hopes of catching Jonathan.

He was only hitting air, though. Jonathan snatched the cane in a heartbeat and tugged it away from Edward's weak grip before bringing it down on Edward's head. Not enough to knock him unconscious, but enough to daze him so he wouldn't fight back so aggressively.

"D-damn you, damn you, damn you," Edward gasped feverishly, trying to crawl away from Jonathan. Jonathan caught him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him closer. "Dammit, let go of me--how'd you get free anyway? That knot--"

"Wouldn't you like to know." Jonathan was now straddling Edward, squeezing the younger man's hips with his knees and gazing down into Edward's face. The Riddler's throat was convulsing soundlessly as if he wanted to speak but no words were coming out; it was a nice change from his usual inability to shut up. His bowler had fallen off, revealing his messy brown hair, and his face was admirably flushed.

"J-Jonathan, oh, please," Edward squeaked when he managed to get coherent words out. "D-don't rip the spandex."

Jonathan found himself laughing a genuinely amused laugh, instead of his usual evil cackle. Poor silly Edward Nigma. Thinking only of the state of his clothes even at a time like this. Though he _had _conditioned Edward quite well, he thought with satisfaction.

Not that it took much conditioning for anyone to understand what this position meant. Plus, Jonathan wasn't making much of an effort hiding what was pushing uncomfortably against his pants.

Edward was so damnably _terrified. _Jonathan had always found the younger man attractive, in a cute litte puppy kind of way, but he became practically alluring when he fell into one of his terrified fits, all flushed and gibbering and squeaking and writhing this way and that in a pathetic effort to escape. And his screams...why, they were more than delicious.

"No guarantees," he said roughly, reaching into his tattered coat for the syringe he kept with him at all times. It appeared Edward, despite being a supposed supergenius, had forgotten to remove anything suspicious from Jonathan's body while he was tied up.

"I--I spent a lot on this costume, yanno," Edward yammered. "So please please _please _don't rip it up too much--"

"After our next heist," Jonathan whispered, leaning in close so he and Edward were almost touching noses, "we will have more than enough money to pay for a new costume for you. Including, yes, another one of those spandex monstrosities."

"Hey! Take that back!"

"You're in no position to negotiate," Jonathan said. He captured Edward's wrists in one hand, to keep the younger man from flailing about, and with the other, sank the needle of the syringe into the vein leaping and twitching in Edward's exposed white neck. "Happy dreams, Edward...or should I say, _nightmares..."_

"Oh, no, no, no, no Jonathan, please," Edward half-groaned, half-sobbed. "Jonathan, no--_no!"_

Jonathan allowed a triumphant smirk to cross his face, a smirk that perfectly matched the triumph surging within him. Imagine that. He'd awoken this morning at the complete disadvantage here, tied up and at the mercy of Edward with his silly riddles and that unfortunately heavy cane. And now here he was, pinning down a writhing and sobbing Edward and prepared to show Edward just who belonged to whom in this relationship. Oh, how the tables had turned.

He reached down and, still smirking insanely, tore straight through the spandex covering Edward's chest.

* * *

Good lord. Well, my original plan was for the story to be a straight-up inversion of the way I typically see Scarecrow/Riddler--namely, with Jonathan on top. I do see this pairing as one in which the positions can switch fairly fluidly, but Jonathan tends to dominate most of the time. Hell, I think I meant for this to be a staightforward smutty scene with Edward topping. I wonder where that went.

Since I'm writing these on the fly, I don't know what any of the future ones might be, but I do think I'd like to write a Jonathan/Edward sex scene with Joker and Harley watching (haha, voyeurism), and a short and silly thing with the Goddamn Batman. I mean, the first story's Batman was basically the Goddamn Batman anyway.

Anyone reading for my Kingdom Hearts fics can cry right about now, because I'm most assuredly not in a KH mood. Once I find my copy of 358/2 Days again, I might be. Speaking of which, I've been on Day 171 for about three months already. I must have fought that boss a hundred times. It's even worse than Demyx was.

Again, review if you wish.


	3. Simple and Clean

**Mind Games**

3. Simple and Clean

I love "Simple and Clean." In actuality I'm not that much of a fan of Utada Hikaru and J-pop in general, but something about that song just...clicks with me. Part of it is just the nostalgia factor--the song always brings back beautiful memories of the summer in which I played and beat both Kingdom Hearts and Kingdom Hearts II. And another part of it is just that "Simple and Clean" is a great song. I do think "Hikari" (the Japanese version) is better sung and has more passion in it, but the lyrics of "Simple and Clean" really resonate with me in a way "Hikari"'s don't (well, part of it is that I don't understand Japanese, but even the translated lyrics to "Hikari" I don't find as compelling as those to "Simple and Clean").

So any story I write that takes inspiration from "Simple and Clean" has to be very dear to my heart. I don't know what I was thinking, writing a Scarecrow/Riddler fic to that song, because "Simple and Clean" is a very romantic song, but I don't tend to see Scarecrow/Riddler as a very romantic pairing. Still, since this collection is meant to explore every aspect of the Riddler's various relationships, I thought to give a more romantic view a shot. Plus, I couldn't resist twisting around the song's bridge a bit (since it y'know, does mention fear...a roundabout justification, if any).

I was writing this to the amazing acoustic version of "Simple and Clean," which is actually my favorite version of the song. It's so much more emotional, and definitely has a more melancholy feel than the normal version.

* * *

_Hold me_

_Whatever lies beyond this morning_

_Is a little later on_

_Regardless of warnings _

_The future doesn't scare me at all_

_Nothing's like before_

_

* * *

_

"You aren't afraid?"

Jonathan Crane asked him that, sometimes. Just randomly, out of the blue--in the mornings after they'd just awoken, during the afternoons while they munched on junk food and drafted plans together, while they were counting the bills from their latest heist. The first few times he'd sprung the question, Edward had been left blinking and utterly confused. Confused! It wasn't easy to confuse the Prince of Puzzlers, though if you asked him a silly question--such as _that_--then perhaps he would be lost for an answer, through no fault of his own.

"Afraid of what?" he'd snapped those times.

But Jonathan never answered him. He would just turn away, shaking his head slightly, almost as if in disgust. And then Edward would be left standing there, strangely cold and mortified inside--but mostly angry. That idiot. Why ask him a question if he wasn't going to _explain _it? During those times, Edward always had the unpleasant feeling that Jonathan was enjoying a private joke on his expense. Edward didn't like that, being the butt of people's jokes. It happened sadly often; no one took the Riddler seriously.

He supposed it didn't matter, then, if the Scarecrow didn't either.

It didn't matter, but still, it bothered him.

But gradually, after a few more heists with Jonathan, after spending a few more evenings hunkered inside rotting old buildings hiding from Batman, Edward came to understand what the question meant. He'd seen Jonathan--no, the _Scarecrow_--in action enough times. Witnessed the fear gas that could cause even the most stalwart police officer to break down sobbing like a baby. Witnessed the Scarecrow, a vengeful figure in rags, striding forward through a crowd, twirling a scythe--and the people around him all fleeing, screaming, not because he'd used his fear gas yet but simply because of his _reputation. _Hell, Jonathan had even used the gas on Edward his fair share of times.

"You aren't afraid?" Jonathan had asked him, but Edward realized the rub in the question--the puzzle, if you will--lay in the fact that it was incomplete.

Jonathan actually meant, _You aren't afraid of me?_After Edward realized this, he started--feeling _sorry _for Jonathan. Of all things. He should really take it as a cue to run away. Even the Scarecrow recognized that his presence was unhealthy. Many of the other villains who Edward associated with had already, upon discovering their relationship, urged him in no uncertain terms to leave behind the Scarecrow, the Penguin most emphatically. He'd related to Edward a long and horrible metaphor involving the way penguins chewed up and then spat out fish, which Edward really needn't have heard.

Of course, everything that Cobblepot and all the others said was true. Jonathan Crane was one sick fuck, even by Gotham villain standards. He was a freak who enjoyed turning others' fears against them, who wanted to see people _break _in his hands, shatter like glass sculptures. Edward was nothing to him, just his latest experiment. Everyone had warned him, Jonathan most of all, and so Edward should really do the rational thing and pack his bags.

But he couldn't. Although Jonathan always asked that question in his clipped, academic "Professor Crane" tone, Edward could always detect a tinge of uncertainty to it--and Jonathan never looked him in the eye. He was always glancing to the side, or had his back turned to Edward. As if he was afraid of seeing Edward's reaction...

Edward Nigma might be an emotionally stunted man, stuck in his childhood immaturity, but even he possessed something of a sense of empathy. So he didn't find it hard to, every time Jonathan asked that question, drape his arms around Jonathan's shoulders and pull the taller and thinner man into an embrace. The first time or two, Jonathan had jumped and tensed, startled, but after a while he stopped protesting. He seemed to realize that just as he had developed the ritual of asking that question, Edward had developed a ritual of hugging in response. Of _comforting _him.

Jonathan couldn't bring himself to ask the full question. Edward couldn't bring himself to answer, at least with words.

_Are you afraid of me? _Jonathan asked without asking, and Edward answering without answering, _No._

In a gleeful, schadenfreude-enjoying sort of way, Edward liked that Jonathan was so insecure about their relationship. So it seemed that the Scarecrow, the coldly detached psychologist who examined his victims like insects through a microscope, had his own issues to contend with. But most of him couldn't enjoy the schadenfreude for long.

He thought that this, this constant mutual questioning, mutual assurance, was what brought him and Jonathan together in the first place. Or at least, what kept bringing them each other. They really had no reason, and no business, to continue seeing each other given all the shit that happened between them--all the times Jonathan had forced Edward to be the subject of his experiments, most of which involved him testing out new strains of fear gas; all the times that Edward double-crossed Jonathan and left him tied up for a death trap before hopping out and seeking greener pastures and better partners (strangely, it was always Edward double-crossing Jonathan, never the opposite way around). But inevitably, often after an escape from Arkham, the two got together again and threw all their past transgressions out of the window.

Edward always curled up next to Jonathan in the nights, wrapping his arms around the professor's narrow waist and burying his nose between the prominent shoulder blades and relishing in Jonathan's scent, which reminded him at once of straw and hospital disinfectant. It didn't matter how big of an argument they might have had before, or what Jonathan had done to Edward while he'd been tied up earlier that day.

Jonathan would snicker, "_Aren't you afraid?"  
_

Edward denied the statement by tightening his grip and drawing Jonathan closer to him.

And sometimes Jonathan even returned the affection, in more roundabout ways. Sometimes, while Edward was bent over the morning crossword, intently filling it out before the five minutes he allotted himself were gone, Jonathan would come up behind him and gently rest his slim hands on Edward's shoulders, and stroke little circles into his skin with his long and slender fingers, and all of Edward's concentration would immediately vanish into some beautiful netherworld.

Some of those mornings, it took him almost twenty minutes to finish the crossword. Such a shame.

Question: When we can both give each other so much, and we know it, what is there to be afraid of?

Answer: Nothing.

In fact, Edward would have to say that the times they were affectionate with each other, much as they were outnumbered by all the lies, deceit, manipulation, double-crossing, and fear-gassing, meant more to him than any of the shit that happened the rest of the time. Snuggling next to the sleeping Jonathan Crane, or feeling Jonathan's hands expertly rub the soreness out of his aching muscles (which usually happened after a particularly exhilarating Bat-chase), he felt all of the old worries and fears float away. Nothing was left but a sense of peace, of simplicity, of _cleanness._

The next day, maybe, it would all fall apart for real. Perhaps one day he could no longer take Jonathan constantly tying him up and treating him as a guinea pig. Perhaps one day Jonathan could no longer take Edward constantly setting him up and deceiving him. Perhaps, perhaps, _perhaps._

Who gave a shit. Let tomorrow come, well, _tomorrow._

For now, Edward had Jonathan, Jonathan curled up in his arms and so warm and alive and really _there. _And he didn't need anything else. Not now.

* * *

...I really don't know if this is the same Edward and Jonathan in the previous story. I can't imagine those two being so affectionate, though I allow that perhaps the events of that story are one of their "transgressions."

Sigh. Perhaps one day I'll write a straight-up smutty story to throw in here, so I can actually justify that rating. Not today, it seems.

Again, review if you wish, but I'm concentrating a lot more on my fictionpress as of now. Well, I would, if I got more reviews there.


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